He didn't wait for them to say more. Once in his room, Besh pulled out his travel sack and began to fill it. A change of clothes, a woolen overshirt, a waterskin, an extra blade, and his fire flint. After a few moments he sat on his pallet, realizing that his hands were trembling.

"Damn," he muttered, not quite certain what it was that had put him in such a state.

"Father?"

He turned and saw Elica standing in the doorway, her brow creased with concern.

"You should be helping him pack his things." "He sent me to help you."

Besh looked away, twisting his mouth sourly.

She came and sat beside him on the bed. "He's a good man, you know; better than you've ever been willing to admit." She paused, and then, "Why is that?"

"I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Well, I don't know if I'm ever going to see you again," she said, suddenly angry again, "so you're damn well going to talk about it!"

He faced her once more.

"Tell me, Father! What did Sirj do to deserve your contempt? I have a right to know! He's in the next room preparing to follow you on this mad errand of yours! He's ready to get himself killed trying to keep you safe! So if you're going to steal my husband from me-if you're going to leave my children fatherless-I have a right to know why you've treated him like a cur all these years!"

"I don't know," he said softly.

She shook her head. "That's not an answer."

"It's the truth. I've been asking myself the same question, and I simply don't know. I decided long ago that I didn't like him. Maybe it was the same thing that made your grandfather hate me so."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Grandfather hated you? Why?"

Besh shrugged and smiled. "I loved his daughter. I wasn't the strongest or the smartest or the best, and I had the audacity to love his daughter. And what was worse, she loved me."

Elica sat for some time, staring at the floor, her forehead creased. At last she lifted her gaze, meeting his. "Why are fathers such fools?"

Besh laughed. "I wish I knew." He looked away briefly, but quickly made himself face her again. "I was wrong about him. Sirj is a good man, and a fine father. And for what it's worth, I'll do my best to keep him safe. I may be an old man, but I've been wielding my blade for a long time, and I know something about magic."

She kissed his cheek. "That's worth a good deal, Father. To Sirj and to me." She stood and surveyed his small room. "Do you need any help getting ready?"

"No. I can do it on my own."

Elica nodded and left him.

For several moments after she was gone Besh didn't move. He felt too weary to stand, much less venture into Y'Qatt lands and do battle with a crazed Mettai witch. Despite all that he'd said to Elica he still didn't relish the notion of having Sirj with him as he searched for Lici. He and Sirj had nothing to say to each other; at least they hadn't for the past dozen years. Better to be alone than with a man he didn't understand. But somehow it seemed that choice had been taken from him, as if his being old gave others the right to make decisions on his behalf.

At least you'll have someone to carry all the food Pyav has promised you. Ema's voice. Besh grinned. Had she still been alive, she would have taken his hand to soften the remark. He could almost feel her fingers touching his. He tried to force himself into motion once more. He still had a few more things to pack, and he should have helped Elica prepare the evening meal this last time. But he couldn't bring himself to move. He just sat on the bed, staring at the scars on the back of his hand. At one point he heard voices he didn't recognize out in the kitchen and he expected that Elica would come and get him. But she didn't, and still he sat.

The light began to fade and the house filled with the aromas of roasted fowl and boiled greens.

"Grandfather?"

Besh looked up. Mihas stood in the doorway, peering at him with wide eyes, as if he feared what Besh might say to him.

The old man smiled. "Come here, boy."

Mihas walked to the bed and sat beside him. "Your mother told you?"

"My father."

"You have questions for me?"

He hesitated, but only briefly. "Are you going to fight her? Lici, I mean. Are you and Lici going to fight?"

"I don't know, Mihas. I hope it won't come to that, but she's hurting people right now, and we can't let her do that."

"What if she… what if she hurts you? Or Papa?"

Hurts. Kills. The word didn't really matter; Besh knew what the boy was asking.

"She's not going to kill your father," he said. "I promise you that. Your father is coming with me to make certain that I make it back to all of you safely. I'm not a young man anymore." He smiled; Mihas didn't.

"Anyway, I won't let anything happen to him. And when the time comes, I'll face Lici alone."

"But that's-" He broke off, shaking his head. "What about you?" Besh shrugged. "I can't make any promises about me. I'm in no hurry to die, and I certainly don't want Lici to be the one to send me to Bian's realm. But I don't know what's going to happen. My magic doesn't flow that strong."

"Then don't go," Mihas said, staring at the floor.

Besh bent lower and looked at the boy, forcing Mihas to meet his gaze. "Do you really mean that? Do you really think that I should stay here and let all those people die? Is that the kind of man you think I am? Is that the kind of man you want to be?"

"No," the boy said grudgingly.

"Of course it's not. And that leaves us with no choice. I have to go, and you have to help your mother care for your sister and brother." Besh made himself stand. "I imagine it's time for us to eat," he said, forcing a smile "It must be, because I'm pretty hungry."

"Do you remember what I told you about Nissa's father?" Mihas asked.

"Nissa's father?"

"He said that wherever Old Lici walks, four ravens circle above her.

And you said that he might be right."

Besh nodded, the conversation coming back to him. "Seems he was even more right than we knew."

"But the ravens-"

"The death omen. That doesn't mean me, Mihas, at least not necessarily. Lici has already done plenty to fulfill a thousand death omens. Maybe.." He faltered, unsure as to whether to put the thought into words. After a moment he decided the boy was old enough to hear him say it. "Maybe the next death will be her own." He held out a hand.

"Now come with me to supper."

The boy stood and took Besh's hand, and together they walked out into the common room, where the others were already eating. Elica and Sirj looked up as the two of them sat, but neither of them said anything, and the meal passed in almost complete silence.

After, as Elica bathed the little ones, Besh left the house and made his way to Lici's. The sky still glowed faintly in the west, but a few pale stars had emerged overhead and the lanes of the village were dark and quiet. A turn before, Besh would have needed a torch to find his way through Lici's house, but not anymore. It was almost as familiar to him as his own home.

He quickly found the pouch of coins in the back room, carried it to the window at the front of the house, and in the dim light that remained, counted out twenty sovereigns. He returned the sack of money to its place in the wooden box, though not before taking out Sylpa's daybook. He started to leave with it, thought better of it, and put it back in the box beneath the coins. He almost made it to the door, but then returned to the back room and pulled it out again. This time, he didn't change his mind, though once outside he hesitated again, and had to remind himself of all that Lici had wrought with her magic.

"I might need it," he said aloud, as if Sylpa were listening. "Who knows what else I might learn from what's in here?"